“I’m paying him back. I didn’t ask him to. He’s just, I don’t know, being nice.”
“Nice is buying someone a fruit basket, not commercial real estate.”
“And you told us he turned his gym into a painting room for you as well. Don’t forget that,” my dad says.
“I can’t forget that. But that’s just the problem. It’s hard to forget someone like him. But we don’t have a future. He’s back home now. Living his superstar life.”
“Hmmm,” my mom says and turns back to her painting.
“Poppy! Fabulous studio. Well done.” I turn to see Derek in a painting smock.
My mom holds up her hands. “Don’t look at me,” she says. “I didn’t invite him.”
“What are you doing here, Derek?”
“I heard you needed help. So here I am.”
I snort.
“Where’s Monique?”
“We broke up. She moved to New York.”
“I’m sorry.” It’s a lie. But I’m not sure what else to say.
“It’s okay. She wasn’t right for me. I realized when she left that I missed you. I thought maybe we could try again.”
I look him up and down, and I wonder what I ever saw in him, beyond our history and my aversion to change. We had fun when we were younger, and despite him being an idiot lately, I still have a fondness for him. But somewhere along the line, his innate tendency toward selfishness solidified. Being with me probably amplified it. I indulged his worst inclinations by being too accommodating, never pushing back.
“Thank you. But no,” I say. Ronan would be so proud. I didn’t even use the compliment sandwich.
“Excuse me?” He looks shocked.
“No,” I say. “But thank you for your offer.”
“Ronan Masters is gone,” Derek says. “Are you holding out for him? Because he’s not going to choose you over the supermodels he normally dates. I’m not saying that to be mean. It’s just the truth.”
“Derek?”
“Yes.”
“Leave,” I say.
My dad puffs up taller. “Yes. Derek. You heard Poppy. Leave. Or I’ll make you. Just like Ronan did at our anniversary party.”
“Yes. Leave,” my mom adds. “We should never have tried to get you two back together. She’s far better off without you.Andfar better than you.”
A warm glow flows through me at their words and support. “Thanks, Mom. Thanks, Dad,” I say. And then I turn to my dad, startled. “Ronan kicked Derek out of your anniversary party?”
“He did,” my mom says. “It was very impressive.”
“I didn’t see that. But why didn’t he say anything? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Apparently, Ronan wasn’t pleased about some of the things Derek said about you,” my dad elaborates. “But he managed the situation quietly. He didn’t want to upset you. He knew you wouldn’t want a scene at the party.”
“Since that guy showed up here, you’ve all lost your damn minds. Fine,” Derek grumbles. “I’m going. I have better things to do with my time, anyway.”
My dad holds out his hand. “Leave the smock. We don’t have enough.”
